


Chalk is Eloquent

by notjustmom



Series: Box of 64 [15]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M, Parentlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 01:36:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10479105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: a bit inspired by my partner in crime...





	

It had been years since a case had truly stumped him. It wasn't a nine, exactly, it was just, there was something that just didn't fit, and worse than that, Lestrade's early morning text had prevented him from spending the day with John and Rosie; it was a school holiday and John had taken the day off to be with them. John had understood, he always understood, but Rosie had burst into tears and fled the room, refusing to speak to him.

"She'll get over it." John had tried to reassure him, but Sherlock was just as disappointed as Rosie. John kissed him gently and murmured, "Go, the sooner you get there, the sooner you'll be done, yeah?"

Sherlock sighed and threw on his coat, it was June and already hot, ridiculously so, but he always felt a bit not himself without it, especially if John wasn't at his side. "Tell her -"

"Go. I'll find something to keep her out of trouble. Go and be brilliant, love."

He had gone, but wasn't quite his normally brilliant self. What made it worse was that if John had been with him, he knew John would've been able to nudge him in the right direction, but - damn. It was almost eight o'clock in the evening, Rosie would be almost asleep, on her second book by now. And furious with him, rightly so. He sighed and looked down at his feet, trying to collect himself when he noticed he was standing in the middle of an enormous chalk drawing. It was a bit smudged from the foot traffic, but he could clearly make out three stick figures; a girl, who looked like Rosie, holding hands with two taller people, one had short, neon yellow hair, obviously John, the other, had long, black curls and wore a long coat with a flowing blue scarf. Above their heads, she had written in the colours of the rainbow: "My Family" and had drawn dozens of hearts around them, encircling them with the love that only a five year old has the patience for. He knelt down for a moment and tried to catch his breath. He had always known Rosie was fond of him, and she had always treated him as another father, but to have her so publicly share her love for him in this way was shattering somehow, especially today, of all days. Somehow, he managed to stand upright and make his way up to the flat.

John was holding Rosie in his lap, reading a book in his 'just one more story' voice. He was exhausted but happy, they had had a decent day together, not much of a strop, then. Sherlock tried to hang up his coat quietly, but Rosie knew his sounds too well. "Da!!" she shrieked, and all but fell off of John's lap in order to get to him. He bent down and scooped her up, the scent of chicken fingers and chips still lingered, and one, no, two chocolate biscuits before her nightly bath -

"Da! Thtop dedu - dedud - what's the word?"

"Deducing?"

"Right! No deducing. Just ask me, bemember?"

"Quite right, I forgot for a moment. Sorry." He carried her over to the couch and sat next to John. Their eyes met and John knew that Sherlock had seen the drawing, and could tell how much it had meant to him. Rosie waited patiently for roughly thirty seconds, then launched into what seemed like a minute by minute description of their day, including how it was Papa's idea to get the chalk out, but that she did all the hard work of thinking and then drawing the picture, though Papa did help with the letters. Just a teensy bit. John grinned at Sherlock, then reminded Rosie she still needed to brush her teeth. "Papaaa..."

"Go. I'll be there in a minute." 

Rosie sighed, but knew that voice would not be bargained with, kissed Sherlock on both cheeks, then slipped from his lap, and turned to face him. "We missed you today, but Papa said you were helping Uncle Greg catch some bad guys, and sometimes that means you can't be home with us, even though you want to be." She touched his face and whispered, "You'll get this one, too, Da, I jus' know it." Then she was off like a flash.

"How did she know?" Sherlock whispered, just loudly enough for John to hear him.

"Know what?"

"That I haven't, oh. Wait. So simple." He pulled out his phone and dashed off a quick text. "We, I, assumed it was all done by one person, but it wasn't, not really, it was the idea of one person, but carried out by another person, who went about it in a way that was all wrong, hmm, not wrong, exactly, just not the way the idea man, or in this case, woman, thought it should go...that's what was confusing me, there were two minds at work, but I could only see one, because she wasn't there - but was, at the same time, she just left no physical evidence." Sherlock watched John's eyes glaze over and kissed him, then hopped up and went to help Rosie brush her teeth.

"You and your Papa are brilliant, you know that, right?" Sherlock kissed Rosie's hair and grinned at their reflections.

She hopped down from her stool, and studied him carefully. "Of course." She smirked up at him and giggled as he reached down to pick her up. They made funny faces at each other in the mirror for a moment, then she snuggled against him, and Sherlock realised that it wouldn't be too long before she would outgrow this, not need him anymore and he tightened his arms around her.

"Da. Don't be silly." She mumbled softly, then fell asleep against his chest. 

He carried her to her room, tucked her into bed, then whispered, "Sleep sweet," before he pulled the door almost closed and went back downstairs to find John snoring on the couch. Sherlock shook his head, then knelt at John's feet, and closed his eyes. "I don't tell you nearly as often as I should, how much it means to me that you are both here, you and Rosie, that you trust me with her, as you do, that I'm allowed to be a part of her life, that you trust me John, with your heart - "

John touched Sherlock's face, wiping his tears away, and murmured sleepily, "Love, we are your family, now and always, some things don't need to be spoken to be understood." Sherlock opened his eyes to see John smiling at him. "For instance, I know you are going to need help getting up, because your knee has locked up, yes?"

Sherlock nodded ruefully and John moved to help him stand, then wrapped his arm around Sherlock's waist as they slowly made their way to bed. "But, I don't mind hearing it, love."

**Author's Note:**

> Bemember is my 5 year old's word for remember.


End file.
